Oh the leaves, they fall
They go so far sometimes
Do I blame the wind, or the tree that let it go?
Or do I… wave goodbye?
So many times I needed you to be strong for me

“Settling” – Tara Maclean


“Your what is *what*?” I repeat, staring at him with endless questions in my eyes.

He sighs, and then his palm brushes my cheek ever so lightly. “A few months ago, Darla and I were researching a particular demon we had come across. I happened to stumble upon a spell. A soul-binding spell.” His breath comes out in a rush, and his eyes glow for a moment in the dimness of the gym.

The back of my neck runs with sweat. I can feel the tiny trickles of blood from my split lip and nostril dripping down my chin. With an absent hand, I catch them on the knuckles of my fingers and watch the redness seep into my shiny skin. The room smells musty and musky, like our fight and kisses and confusion. “I'm not sure what to say.”

He nods. “It's all right. Don't say anything.”

“But I sort of half to,” I mumble. “This is the kind of thing I used to dream about---“ I break off and smile slightly, turning away. “I mean… this is big stuff. How do you know… how do you know if it works or not?”

I feel his hand, cool on my hot skinned shoulder, as he whispers, “I don't. Would you like to find out?”

All the blood rushes to my cheeks, and I feel my knees weaken. “You broke my nose.”

“You broke me,” he answers softly.

I falter a little, my breath hitching. “How did I do that?”

“You died,” he replies flatly, and stares down at the floor.

“You left me.”

“I had to.”

"Well, so did I.”

He sighs and runs an angry hand through tousled hair. “We're not even, Buffy. Not even close. I went to the next town. You went into another world. You left me, yourself, your friends… everything- behind you. Without even a second glance, I'm told.”

“I'm sorry,” I whisper, and feel the tears burn in my eyes.

He looks up, smiling slightly, tenderly. “Don't be sorry. Just love me.”

“You know I do,” I sob, and touch his chest with trembling fingers. “But I don't know how to be with you, again. It's been six years since you loved me back, Angel. Six years since I had something real in my life. Do you know how long that is? I lived for years without you- and I had sex, and I had boyfriends and I had Spike panting after me, and I had Dawnie, and I had Glory, and I had my Mom dying and leaving me alone, and I had *so* much to deal with.” I break off and stare up at him, my eyes wide and diamond bright. “While you lived in LA, I died. A million times. Little deaths- hundreds of little deaths. That time when I jumped off the tower, Angel?”

“Yeah?” he says in a stricken voice.

I walk over to the door and rub my sore forehead, which seems to throb with the unsteady beat of my heart. “I was just making it official.”

~~~

Spike's room is a long way from the Gym. I know because I sniff out it's scent, it's weak. Spinning around, I go in the direction where it's strongest, and trail my fingers along the dusty ledges as I walk. I cough and feel the sting of vomit at the back of my throat, which is coppery, like blood. My nose drips freely and the drops look like tiny rosebuds as they decorate the floor with crimson.

I don't know how to live in this world. I don't know how to hope that my friends will come out of this alive- that anything can ever be the same again? I don't know how to reconcile that my sister craves blood. That she drinks it and licks her lips clean. I don't know how to be Buffy, in a world that needs me so badly, but that I have no idea how to help.

I don't know how to love Angel again. How to *be* with Angel again. What if he leaves again? What if he decides it's for my own good… and he leaves? Pain cramps my belly and I stop for a moment, gasping. It's no good. It's never been any good. I love him, and I can't have him and that should be the end of the story… right? Trying to breathe, I lean against the wall and swallow, remembering when I was stronger than I am now, and I feared nothing- I feared nothing and so many things feared me.

“Losing your mind, Slayer?”

I hear Spike's lazy drawl from behind me and whirl, facing him head on.

He smiles slowly and the cigarette between his lips glows bright orange. “Join the club. I lost mine long ago.”

“I'm not going crazy,” I close my eyes briefly, and cock my head. “And neither are you. But we're both trapped, aren't we?”

“By what?” he asks, sucking on the smoke like it's going to curl inside him and make a new body.

“Everything,” I shrug. “You're a vampire, I'm a Slayer. We're caught in this world that neither of us understand. I'm alive and you're dead and I'm supposed to be dead… you turned my sister and I hate you for it. We're trapped.”

He grins and taps his boot against the wall with an absent stroke. “You might be trapped, blondie, but I'm enjoying this world. Nothing but demons- all the namby-pamby bloody humans gone from sight? It's like heaven.”

I take a step closer to him and lay a hand on his arm. “It is not. It's Hell. And you told me once you never wanted Hell on earth. You *liked* this world. It may have been for sick and severely screwed up reasons… but you did like this world the way it was. Don't lie to me, Spike. Not again.”

He breathes harshly and throws off my fingers, getting so close to me that I can feel edges of his leather jacket against my breasts. Menace is coming off him in bitterly hot waves. “When did I lie to you, Slayer?”

“Shall I count the times?” I laugh, ticking them off on my fingers. “When you told me you didn't turn Dawnie. When you told me you'd look after her. When you told me Angel was dead. When you told me that everyone was dead.”

“I thought Angel *was* dead!” he snarls, and leans over me, his mouth against my forehead. “I thought we were all going to die! What right do you have to judge, you little bitch? You died. You jumped off that fucking tower and expected us all to deal with you being gone.” He chuckles, and the sound bounces off the stone ceiling with a quiet fury. “I didn't owe you any explanations.” His palm grips my bare neck and he yanks back my head. I pant a little, my breath coming out in little puffs that he seems to drink as he speaks. “Want to know why I fucked Dawn? Because she was part of you. I always wanted you, Slayer. I always loved you. Craved you. Wanted to fuck you and kill you and beat you to a bloody mess.”

His fangs push against his gums and as his lips brush against my throat, I feel the tips of them- knifelike and razor sharp with pain, push against my skin.

“If you kill me, you know Angel will hunt you down,” I whisper, not even scared, which it occurs to me I should be.

He laughs and laughs, his chest heaving. “Who broke your nose, Buffy?”

“Angel,” I murmur.

“Right. You think I would ever hurt you? You think I want you to die again?”

“Yes.”

Nodding, he growls, “Maybe that's true. Maybe you're right.” I feel the pads of his fingers squeeze my throat, and my vision blurs. “But just maybe I love you enough to keep you around.” The slide of his fanged mouth against mine is hot and cold at the same time, and I whimper, as he kisses me and then his tongue licks the blood on my chin. “Just maybe.”

Throwing me away, he watches as I wheeze a little. His eyes burn with malicious lust and such rage that I feel my bones and skin weaken under the assault. “Take me to Dawn,” I order, and he shakes his head.

“Still giving orders. You never learn, Slayer.”

But his hand grasps my elbow and he pulls me along with him through a series of dimly lit corridors that all smell of musty carpets and worn out lanterns, thick with wax. Unlocking a door, he walks in and I follow, seeing my sister sitting on the window seat, brushing her long locks as she presses her face to the glass, watching whatever is outside.

“I told you to stay away from the window, lil bit,” Spike warns gently, his hand threading through Dawn's hair. She leans back against him without looking, purring;

“I know, Spike. But I love to watch the people. So many different faces. We never got to see people in the old house.”

“I know, pet,” he murmurs, and leans down to kiss her, his hands fanning her back as he lifts her into his arms and she curves her body into his.

“I brought someone to see you,” he says, and her face lights up for a moment.

“Who?”

“Your sister, luv. She's right over there.”

He points to the shadows where I wait. He sets her down and she wobbles slightly, her feet like spears in their black pointed boots. Her lush red lips turn down in a moue of disappointment as she scowls. “I was hoping it was Angelus. He always brings me such nice gifts.”

Spike growls. “When was Angelus here, Dawn?”

“Just a second ago. He brought me chocolate. And a diary. I don't know why- I said I don't write in them, but he asked me to. He says I used to. I didn't know what he meant. Angelus is so nice.”

“His name is Angel,” I say firmly, and step forward, my hands gripping my sister's shoulders. “And the reason he brought you a diary is because you used to write in one, Dawnie. When you were smaller. You loved your diaries. Can't you remember?”

“No,” she wriggles a little, and gasps like a fish caught on a sharp hook. “I can't. Why does everyone try and make me remember things? I can't. Stop it, Buffy.”

“How do you remember that's what my name is?” I pounce, and shake her slightly.

She stops, confused. “I don't know. I just do.” Her thumbs touch my cheeks and she frames my face with her hands. “You're Buffy. My sister.” Her eyes blink and she breathes out. “And I hate you. You left me behind.”

“I saved you,” I protest, wanting to hug her close. Wanting to weep. Where has my little sister gone? Where is the girl I knew? Who is this creature that wears her face and calls my love by his demon name?

“No you didn't,” she whispers. “You left me. I'm all alone. Except for Spike.” Twisting from my embrace, she turns and goes into his arms. “I'm hungry. Please feed me.“

He smiles- and it's not nice. It's cruel, and hard, and his lips are flushed pink from my blood. “Of course, Dawn,” he says as he unbuttons his shirt slowly, revealing smooth white skin- brown nipples and a flat belly. My insides ache. “Go ahead, luv.”

She giggles, and vamps out, her fangs cutting clean and deep into a vein near his belly. He flinches slightly and strokes her hair. I watch, frozen in place with horror.

“What is it Slayer?” he asks huskily. “You want a taste too?”

Shaking my head, I stumble from the room, falling against the wall in a haze. I hate him. I hate whoever brought me back to this world I don't know.

~~~

Back in the room I remember Angel bringing me to what seems like years ago, I lie down and close my eyes. No warm washcloth sops away my tears as I fall asleep, my eyes meeting those of the raven's as I am hurled into oblivion.

The desert is hot, and the sun is even hotter. Its red rays are welcome after the dreariness of London and I step onto the sand, feeling the welts rising between my bare toes from the burning grains. It doesn't hurt and I lift my face to the heavens.

“Enjoying the sun, Buffy?”

Opening my eyes, I jerk in surprise and stare at her. “

I don't know,” I answer. “Have you come to kill me, Faith?”

She shrugs, the motion of her slim shoulders underneath a red top smooth and controlled. “I don't think so. It's not why I came.”

“Then why did you?”

She smiles. “Always to the point. Haven't you missed me at all?”

I swallow and see the tumble of her black hair down her back and can almost smell the sharpness and sweetness of her sweat. “Can't say that I have. Another girl possessing my body and enjoying a night of sex with my boyfriend is not something I really miss.”

“Come of it,” she scoffs. “You were more upset that he couldn't tell the difference. Besides…” she pauses, “he wasn't worthy of you, B.”

“And who is?” I ask with a toughness that I don't feel.

The skate of her fingernail against my bare wrist makes me tremble. “No one. But that's not what I came to talk to you about.” She circles me without any intent that I can see, but it makes me nervous and I follow her movements with my eyes. “Willow sent me. We're all trying to get through to you, Buffy. But you won't listen.”

“I never would,” I whisper and she grins, her teeth sharp.

“That's what I said, but no one listens to me, either. You have to wake up, B. You gotta fight. You're losing it, you know that? Three words, each beginning with F should be your motto right now. Forgive, Forget and Fight.”

“Was that the lesson for today?” I inquire warily, and she sighs.

“Can't you ever let it go?”

“No,” I say quietly. “Never.”

“So I slept with Riley,” she begins, “Big—“

“No!” I cry out, surprising us both. “You made him yell at me. You made him hit me. You made him choose you. All because you were a soul that needed saving. You know… there was a time, Faith, when I knew he would choose me over you in a heartbeat. I don't have that anymore. That assurance.”

She laughs at me, and it enrages me to the point where red dots swim before my eyes. “Get over it, B. He'll always choose you. Don't you think I know that? That I always knew it. And so do you- if you'd just get over yourself already. Jesus…” she lets out her breath in a rush. “Everyone always chose you. Even me.”

“What are you trying to say, Faith?”

“Fight, B.” Her hand drags down my hip and she presses a dry kiss to my forehead. “What are you going to do? Lie down and die? That's not you.”

Faith. If only she hadn't succumbed to the madness and stayed my sister under the skin. So many times I screamed for her in the night when I walked alone. “Maybe it's not.” I touch the fringe of her hair and step away. “Did I become you?”

She shakes her head. “I don't know.”

The sands start to dissolve and melt, and the red sun spins as I drift into the feathers and black eyes.

(whisper, love. Sleep…)

What are ya gonna do, B? You can't kill me

This is about saving somebody's soul

You become me

Drink. Drink me

Close your eyes

Buffy?

Why are your lips still moving, F?

Big love

When you kiss me, I wanna die

Big loss

Buffy? What's going on? I don't remember

You should be moving on and dealing with it

I have a boyfriend. His name is Scott

But you're not

What about me? I love you so much

(walk with the night. You are the dead)

Keep your slayer friends out of our—

I walk

I talk

I shop

I sneeze

Just the kill

Not as easy as it looks…

I know you never loved me

How am I supposed to go on with my life? Knowing what we had---

Buffy?

You have a father's love for the child

Who are you?

(the Slayer does not walk in this world. Walk, talk, shop, sneeze… you are alone)

Hello, lover

You don't have a lot of time left

It's not enough time! Nooooo

----What we could have had?

Close your eyes

I had to

I loved you

I'm afraid--- you

You should be--- should be

Stay with me?

Even if you kill me

(screamsssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss)

How's forever?

I love you.

What are you gonna do, B?

Kill me?

Nothing can change that

You become me

Scar tissue. It fades. It all fades

Not even death

(He's dead. You're dead. It's all a little death)

You think you know?

What you

Are?

Buffy?

I don't remember

Close your eyes

I wake with a jerk, cold sweat running down my spine. Tears swell in my eyes and I climb from the bed on wobbling legs, my knees cracking slightly as I move to the door.

A quiet voice stops me from the shadows, “What were you dreaming of?”

I turn, shaking and crying even more. “Of you. Oh Angel.”

I see him hold out his arms and I rush into the circle of his embrace, raising my face to his. His mouth captures mine and I give myself to the kiss, our breath, our hearts, one alive and one not, pressed together. “I love you. I never stopped,” I whisper urgently, and he kisses my hair, holding me close.

“I know, I know, love. I never stopped either. Don't worry. Don't worry, anymore. We'll keep each other safe.”

Taking his hands, I lead him to the bed, feeling the cool sheets against the backs of my legs. He throbs against my stomach as he kisses me. “Are you sure?”

“Shut up,” I smile against his mouth and curve my arms around his neck, fumbling with an insane need to be closer, to be inside of him. Our clothes fall to the floor, and my skin burns as he sweeps his palms over my breasts, the nipples peaking angrily, swollen under his mouth and tongue. I moan, my hips arching as he travels the world of my skin with his mouth.

“You taste like salt,” he murmurs drunkenly, and I whimper, pushing him on his back and bending to my knees, feeling his heaviness between my hands. Light-headed with desire, I slide my lips around him and hear his groan, his hands tangling and pulling at my hair as I drink him down, my thighs trembling.

“Buffy…Buffy…Buffy…” he moans incoherently, and I bend my knees on either side of him, sliding him inside my body, until our stomachs touch and it almost hurts he's so deep inside me.

My swollen insides convulse as he flips me over onto my back and slams into my body, his hands holding my thighs so wide apart I think he's going to split me in two. It's all I've ever wanted- him filling me again. Him inside me again. Screaming, my head thrown back, I feel it all building and building as his cool heat and strength flood my womb and his groan against my lips turns into a desperate kiss.

Gasping, I hold him against me, our sweat slick bodies tangled together.

I don't sleep. I watch him as he drifts into slumber and I wait for morning to break, wondering what it will bring.

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